


shoot my web right on your face

by pleurer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But also, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is a Little Shit, Sugar daddy/baby dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/pseuds/pleurer
Summary: When Tony Stark first propositioned Peter Parker, he hadn’t meant it to bethatkind of proposition.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 330
Collections: 300bpm Flash Exchange November 2019





	shoot my web right on your face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seinmit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/gifts).



> A canon-divergent AU where Peter is a slutty delinquent, because the song begged for it to be written. Thank you for requesting it, and I hope you enjoy the treat. :D 
> 
> Note: I’ve aged Peter up a bit, so Peter is 17 during the events of Civil War.
> 
> Written anonymously for a fic exchange. I’ve since redated this fic for author reveals.

When Tony Stark first propositioned Peter Parker, he hadn’t meant it to be  _ that  _ kind of proposition. The kid was seventeen and living with his aunt in a run-down apartment in Queens, and Tony, driven to desperation, made the wrong decision of asking him to join the fight. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Peter, snorting out a laugh. “You told my aunt about this fake-ass grant just to have an excuse to get in my house, and do what? Beg a seventeen-year-old to get you your ex-boyfriend back?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Cap’s not my ex-boyfriend.”

“I don’t know, you seem pretty hung up on him. If you can lie about the grant, you can lie about your love life. You think he got bored of fucking you and moved on to the Winter Soldier?”

Tony knew Peter was trying to antagonize him on purpose. He’d read up on Peter before coming here— the kid was labeled as a delinquent at school, showing open disrespect of authority figures. But if money could sway him, then it wasn’t a problem. Money was the one thing Tony had more of than he knew what to do with. 

“Who said it was a fake grant?” said Tony. “If you help me out, I’ll get you a new computer, college funds— whatever you want. Actually, I’ve already designed a new suit for you, and it looks a hell of a lot better than that onesie.” He pulled up the holoscreen and showed Peter what the new suit looked like.

That got Peter’s interest, as evidenced by a quirked-up eyebrow. “Yeah? That doesn’t look half bad. Pretty skin-tight, huh?” He skirted his fingers over the design. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, you got some pretty good measurements for my body based on a Youtube video that was filmed with a potato.” He lifted his chin up and regarded Tony with a new intensity in his eyes. “Okay, Tony Stark. I’ll go with you to Germany.”

Though they hadn’t been able to change Steve’s mind, Peter had proceeded to put up a pretty good fight. Back at the hotel, Peter suddenly texted Tony in the middle of the night to request that Tony buy him new underwear, because  _ the old ones got ruined in the fight, and the least you could do is take responsibility.  _ Which was a weird choice of phrase, but hey, fair enough. And when Tony replied asking for Peter’s size and whether he preferred boxers or briefs, Peter texted back  _ thong please and thnx. and you already have my size, the suit fits perfectly ;).  _ Attached was a link to an online catalog of women’s lingerie that had Tony choking on his drink. 

Well, yeah, Tony supposed it made sense. The suit was tight, made to capitalize on Peter’s agility and flexibility, and a thong was really the only thing that wouldn’t show through. He had the package speed-delivered via drone to Peter’s hotel room, and the texting ceased. Crisis averted.

Or so he thought. The next morning when they checked out, Peter smiled at him, and said, “I ruined the ones you bought me, too. I’m gonna need you to get me more.” 

Tony furrowed his brow. “I bought you a whole pack. How the  _ hell  _ did you go through—” 

Then he looked at the hefty bill Peter racked up with all the porn he watched at the hotel, and it finally dawned on him. 

“No,” said Tony. He took a step back from Peter, and then another three steps back for good measure. “No. Absolutely not. I am  _ not  _ doing this.” 

“Oh come on,” said Peter. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. You had other options, but you invited  _ me _ here. You paid for my hotel. You bought me underwear. You examined my body enough to make a custom-fitted suit based on a shitty Youtube video. How many times did you replay that thing, huh? Bet you jacked off to it, too—”

Okay, so in hindsight, making a super suit for someone was probably a slight overstep of boundaries. And so what if he had paused and taken a few screenshots of Peter’s ass? It was all in the name of science. “That was  _ not _ why I made the suit and you know it. I brought you here to—” 

The hotel workers were staring. Tony, who normally prided himself on being to talk his way out of any situation, begrudgingly realized there was no way he could say anything more without revealing Peter’s secret identity as Spiderman in a hotel lobby. “Forget it,” said Tony. “I’m flying you home, and that’s the last we’re going to see of each other.” 

Something akin to hurt flickered over Peter’s eyes for a moment before he got it under control. “Fine,” he said. “Have it your way.”

— 

Tony proceeded to barely survive a shield to the metaphorical heart by someone he once considered a best friend, only to come home and face a wholly different problem plastered all over the tabloids:  _ Tony Stark And New Sugar Baby Sighted In Germany?! _

He rubbed his temples, willing away his headache. He’d been too caught up in the fighting to see it, and he was usually the first to see it. Before Pepper, he’d been the one constantly angling for seduction, knowing exactly how to carry himself and weigh his words to end up bringing a partner home and stumbling into bed for a night. After the breakup he’d tried to revert back to doing the same, but somehow always chickened out at the last minute, his drunken mind conjuring up a flash of red hair, a familiar smile, enough to kill the mood.

This was different. This was a seventeen-year-old boy with widely innocent brown eyes and a mind devious enough to catch him like a fly in a web. 

“FRIDAY,” he said, sounding far too tired even to his own ears, “call Peter Parker.” 

— 

He ended up at Peter’s place, because according to Peter, the new generation hated phone calls. And Tony hated texting, so they settled for a compromise, which was a face-to-face meeting. 

When Peter opened the door he was dressed in a leather jacket and cropped shirt that rode high enough to accentuate his slim waist. Above the hem of his denim shorts, the red lace of the thong Tony had purchased for Peter peeked out. He let Tony in and tried to lead Tony to his bedroom. Tony shook his head no and sat down on the couch, so Peter shrugged and let him have it his way.  _ I should have just fucked his hot aunt,  _ Tony thought grimly to himself.  _ Then none of this would have happened. _

He looked up at Peter, eyes catching on red lace once again. “I thought you ruined those,” said Tony before he could stop himself. It felt like moving the wrong piece on a chessboard. Saying it was admitting that he’d noticed what Peter was wearing, that he’d been looking in that direction, and that he remembered exactly what had transpired in Germany. 

Peter smirked. “I saved a pair,” he said. “These are really comfy. The fabric is super soft.” He reached a hand into the front of his pants and stroked, letting out a moan. Tony tried and failed to will his dick not to react. 

“Look,” said Tony, drumming his fingers along the back of the couch. “I only came here to clear things up. I’m not interested in whatever you’re angling for— not when I’m more than twice your age. If it’s money you want, I’ve got lots of it. I’ll make sure you and your aunt live a good life. You’ve done more than enough for me already.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Yeah, alright, you’re gonna be nice to me because I’m Spiderman and I helped you fight for like five minutes, not because you think I’m hot. Totally believable. I’m completely sold.” 

Tony closed his eyes for a quick moment to get his bearings back. “Look, kid, I won’t lie. I do think you’re attractive. But I don’t think— I  _ know—  _ that this is a terrible idea. You’re young. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing. You’d depend on me financially, which tips the scales of power in my favour, and I may have been an asshole in the past—”

“You’re being an asshole  _ now.” _

“—but I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“Oh my God,” said Peter. He ran a hand through his hair. “Enough with that crap already. I’m legal in New York, but if you’re waiting for eighteen then that’s in August. Besides, it’d be creepier if you waited for me to reach some arbitrary age before we fucked. Also, I’ve been through way more shit than most people my age have, and you of all people know that. Trust me, I know exactly what I’m doing, and if anybody were to  _ take advantage,  _ I know how to defend myself. You know that. You recruited me to kick your friends’ asses.”

Tony swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe it, but he was seriously considering this. Peter could see that he was seriously considering this, and so he moved quickly to straddle Tony now that he knew he had the upper hand. 

“Peter,” said Tony, even as his hand slid under Peter’s jacket to caress the lithe muscles of his back. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Why?” said Peter. “I don’t know. I do what I want. You’re hot, I’m bored. Why not?”

Now that he knew he had Tony wrapped around his finger, Peter took his sweet time. He traced Tony’s beard with his jaw, lazy kisses that hinted at more as his hands traced along the hem of Tony’s jeans, thumbing teasingly at his happy trail. Tony knew he was in deep shit when he thought of a seventeen-year-old’s actions as  _ teasing.  _

“Your aunt,” said Tony, clinging to one last plausible straw of hope that he could get out of this. “Is she coming home soon? We can’t let her catch us like this.”

Peter shrugged. “She’s never home. Works two jobs just to pay the bills, put me through school.”

Tony put a firm hand on Peter’s waist, pushing him away. “I’m not kidding about the grant,” says Tony. “You’re a smart kid. I’ve seen what your grades looked like before you started cutting class, and with the grant, you wouldn’t have to take all those shifts at work. You don’t have to— we don’t have to do this.”

Peter snorted. “You checked the records of a high schooler? How obsessed  _ are  _ you?” He snickered, eyes glinting. “Whatever. I can’t say it doesn’t make me happy to see a dirty old man lower himself for a pretty young thing like me. Makes me feel like I have something you don’t.”

Before Tony could reply, Peter kissed him on the mouth, hard and biting. The kid was relentless, kissing like he was hungry for it, pausing only to take off Tony’s shirt in one swift motion and then run his hands almost reverently over Tony’s chest and abs. 

“Look all you want,” said Tony, trying for a jovial tone now that he’d voluntarily lowered himself into his own grave. If he treated this like any other hookup, he could repress the guilt. “I know I look better in person than on your Sexiest Man Alive magazine spread.” 

He’d expected Peter to retort with a biting remark, braced himself for it, even— but Peter only blushed and ducked his head, uncharacteristically shy. 

“Hit the nail on the head?” asked Tony, pulling Peter close by the hips. Peter rolled his hips against Tony’s, grinding their crotches together.

“I don’t like the idea of feeding your ego,” said Peter. “But, yeah, I used to have posters of you up in my room, and all. Everybody goes through an Iron Man phase.” 

Tony removed Peter’s jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, then nipped and sucked at Peter’s collarbone. “Yeah? What changed your mind?” 

“Got bit by a spider,” said Peter. “Had— more important things to worry about.” 

He stiffened as he said it, and for the first time Tony wondered what had happened to drive him to don the super suit. Another teenager, specifically one as sharp-tongued and seemingly careless as Peter, might use those powers to cause teenage-level mischief, not save the neighbourhood. Though it was hard to think too much on the topic when Peter’s clothed dick was pressed up to Tony’s own.

“Lucky for you,” said Tony, “your old fantasy came true.” He frowned at the perfectly smooth skin above Peter’s collarbone, already healed. “Huh. I swear I just sucked a mark right there, and now it’s gone.” 

“Super healing,” said Peter, in a tone of voice that said,  _ duh.  _ “Losing your memory already, old man?”

“I just thought you’d look good with my marks, is all,” said Tony. He was surprised when Peter gave a full-bodied shudder, and he rocked their hips together again. “You like that?” 

“Mm,” said Peter, hands fumbling for the button of his own jeans. The fabric was tight, designed for seduction and not the act that came after. Tony helped Peter out by removing his jeans, though he kept the thong on as he rolled Peter over, pinning him down onto the couch. Tony scooted down and got to work, pushing the already wet fabric aside and watching, fascinated, as Peter’s fully hard cock bounced up against his stomach. He pressed a kiss to the tip and Peter gasped, writhing against the couch, grasping on to it so that his knuckles were almost white. The reaction put a damper on Tony’s enthusiasm. 

“Don’t tell me,” said Tony, quite horrified, “that this is your first time.” 

Peter laughed. “Oh, God, no. I’ve probably gotten laid more than you have in the past couple months. I’m just—” He blushed. “It’s the senses dialed to eleven thing.” 

“We can work with that,” said Tony, an idea already blooming in his head. He experimented with stroking Peter’s inner thighs with the pads of his fingers, gentler than he normally would, taking Peter’s cock slowly into his mouth, partway, and bobbing it up and down rather than deepthroating. Heightened sensitivity meant heightened pleasure at smaller actions, so he took his time, caressing every inch of Peter with his mouth and hands, drawing delicious whimpers and gasps from Peter until his body suddenly folded and he came with a surprised shout. Tony shut his eyes just in time so that Peter’s come didn’t get in his eyes, but it did splatter all over his face. 

“Oh, fuck,” said Peter, head knocking back against the couch. “S-sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.”

He might have talked big, but he was still inexperienced, relative to Tony. Tony fought the strange feeling that tried to worm its way into his chest, and focused on cleaning the come off his face. “It’s fine. Not my first rodeo,” said Tony. 

“Yeah, I know. I saw your sex tape, but that guy asked first before he blew his load all over your face, so you know, if I’ve crossed any lines—” 

Tony barked out a laugh. “If anyone’s crossed a line, it’s me. Question: your super healing, does that apply to refractory periods?”

“Hell yeah,” said Peter. To prove his point, he sat himself up, fished a bottle of lube out from under the couch, and poured it over his fingers. He reached behind him, body arcing perfectly as he pushed the first one in and let out a shaky, satisfied moan like he’d been aching for this since Tony first set foot through his door. His cock, sure enough, bobbed upwards, already half hard. 

“What wouldn’t I give to have that kind of superpower,” said Tony. He ran his hands along Peter’s thighs, watching intently as Peter added a second finger, mesmerized by how they disappeared into Peter just outside of Tony’s view. He watched Peter’s face contort with pleasure, mouth agape and cheeks flushed red, and felt something bloom in his chest, something he was afraid to name. He channeled that feeling instead into kissing Peter, slipping his tongue past Peter’s lips and eating up every whimper that escaped. And then he slipped his hand behind Peter as well, circled the rim of his hole where it was stretched by Peter’s own fingers, and pushed. Peter came just like that, a second time, splattering over his own abs. Tony dipped a finger in it, spread it around on Peter’s skin, and Peter groaned helplessly.

“Twice already. What’s your limit?” said Tony. 

“I don’t know,” said Peter. “I only fuck guys, and they tire out after one go. They don’t stick around to see how far I can get.” 

“Well, we can conduct a little science experiment of our own,” said Tony. 

It turned out that Peter came a third time as soon as Tony pushed his cock inside of Peter. The incredible sensation of Peter’s tight heat contracting around him was almost enough to get Tony to come himself. He willed himself to keep his composure. He didn’t have Peter’s superpower, after all, and he wanted this to last.

Peter was already a mess of come and sweat before Tony even started fucking him for real, and once Tony began to thrust, Peter cried out, so high-strung that Tony had to stop and make sure he was okay. 

“Fuck me  _ harder,”  _ said Peter, grabbing onto Tony’s arm and digging his fingers in painfully hard. “I can take it. Fuck me like you  _ mean _ it.”

Heat flared up in the pit of Tony’s stomach, instinct overpowering thought. He folded Peter on his back, hooked Peter’s knees over his shoulder, and drove his hips in, brutal and relentless. Peter groaned brokenly with each jolt of his body, tears budding at the corners of his eyes, and when Tony reached up to swipe them away, something inside of Peter seemed to break. He took hold of Tony’s hand, and said, “Mr. Stark—  _ please.”  _

Tony didn’t know what Peter was asking for. All he knew was that he wanted to give it to him. Everything, everything he could ever want. He pistoned his hips into Peter, until his own pleasure reached its peak, and he kissed Peter on the mouth as he came inside him, and Peter came too, with a muffled sob against Tony’s lips.

It was probably the best sex Tony had ever had. At least in a long while. He tried not to think about what this said about him as a person. He just slumped over, relaxed, on top of Peter, and let himself card his hands through Peter’s hair. The inevitable sense of dread was coming, but right now he was too blissed out and content to dwell on it.

Peter whined when he pulled out, and pulled a puppy-dog-eyed look at Tony when he got up. “I’m just going to grab you a warm towel,” said Tony. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

He only knew it was true when he said it— he really  _ wasn’t  _ going anywhere. He had hardly thought, at all, about where this would lead, having been too busy trying to resist Peter’s advances. But now that they’d done it, Tony knew he was in it for good. 

When Tony came back, he cleaned Peter up fastidiously, holding him still as Peter squirmed with oversensitivity. And when he finished up, Peter put on a face and sat up, too.

“You should get out of here,” said Peter. “I’m going on patrol soon.” 

Tony recognized the defensive demeanour when he saw it. It was like looking at a mirror image of his younger self. He’d go to parties, bury his daddy issues with alcohol and hookups, and wake up to an empty bed in the morning. And on the occasions that somebody asked if they could stay the night, he’d make up some excuse to kick them out. 

“Sure,” Tony acquiesced. “No problem, I’ll just get dressed and head out. But patrol? Really? I’m surprised you can walk.” 

“I told you I heal fast,” said Peter. He started putting on his clothes, and then paused. He looked at Tony like he was extending him an olive branch. “I’ll call you. Or text you, or whatever. Or maybe I won’t.”

“You can call me whenever,” said Tony. It just came out. He’d already done the unthinkable, and trying to make it better now was like slapping a band-aid over a hole in the wall. But he did it anyway. “If you need anything, you can always call. It doesn’t have to be about this. You can use my lab and tinker with your web fluid, your suit. Do your homework, even. Whatever you want.”

“That’s too much,” said Peter, fidgeting uncomfortably. 

“It’s not,” said Tony. “You deserve it. You’ve got a lot to offer, kid.” 

Peter looked at him with wide eyes, and Tony wondered if Peter had ever been told those words before. It made him sad to think about. 

“Sure,” said Peter. “Yeah, maybe. Like I said, I’ll either call you or I won’t.”

“Okay,” said Tony. “That sounds good.” 


End file.
